I had begged Charles many times to go.
He would usally just look away and wave his hand as if to say, "Scram, Son, you are bothering me."
But today he actually called me to go. I was glad to have him.
Man, the place was crowded. Cars everywhere.
Even the meeting was crowded with guests and members.
The speaker spoke on autism, and that was clearly a topic that moved Charles’s heart as his beloved child is autistic.
After the meeting was over, since we have both parked our cars out back, I knew a short cut and asked Charles if he wanted to follow me to get to where he needed to go.
He consented, and after walking through a rat maze, we were getting close to the last door to push open, when out of the corner of my eye, I happened to notice a man sitting at a table who looked familiar. I thought to myself, "Naw . . . it couldn’t be him. Just a look-alike."
But Charles looked up and exclaimed, "Mr. President!" And walked over to him and greeted him profusely.
He recounted to him a story the details of which were familiar to the President.
And when the President asked him what he was doing now, instead if pulling out his prestigious work at a national level, Charles replied that he was the emeritus pastor of my church. And then he said, "I’d like for you to meet our senior pastor."
The President stuck out his hand.
I was flabbergasted. I shook it and said, "Mr. President, it is so very good to meet you."
Later, I thought, "Wow! How many people ever get to shake the hand of the President of the United States of America?"
I know I am the first one in my family ever to have done so.